


Loopholes

by Rueitae



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Attempt at Humor, F/M, Getting to Know Each Other, Injury Recovery, Lotor is basically Rapunzel, Major Character Injury, Marriage Proposal, Pre-Relationship, Prophecy, Voltron gang has magic, ambiguous prophecy at that, and everyone gets to be friends, and is Almost self-rescuing, everyone sticks up for each other in my fics, technically
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-01
Updated: 2020-01-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:48:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22059586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rueitae/pseuds/Rueitae
Summary: After being alone for so long, it seems Lotor might finally have something resembling a family.
Relationships: A love triangle almost happened and then I said nope, Allura & Shiro (Voltron), Allura/Lotor (Voltron)
Comments: 9
Kudos: 14





	Loopholes

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a dear friend who requested some lotura when I was taking prompts almost two years ago now. A very kind person asked if I could post it to Ao3, so here we are! I kinda threw all my wishes for found family into it.

The first time it happened, Lotor had been a child. He didn’t understand what was happening at the time, but the lady in the dark robes and raspy voice had seemed nice enough. He had no concept of what a mother should be like, so he did not question moving in with her to a remote tower far from Castle Daibazaal. 

The older he got, the wiser he became. Haggar cared for him about as much as his father, which wasn’t much at all. He was a prisoner in all but name, as was his father’s intent. When one was an immortal emperor, having an heir was a threat to the throne. 

Lotor had little interest in ruling, so he left (escaped) the tower and met some friends while exploring freedom for the first time. 

They were good friends. Lotor felt at ease with them. For the first time he felt like he could care about others. 

His father hadn’t been happy about the escape. Assassins actively sought him and his friends. 

Lotor didn’t blame his companions when they tried to turn him over after one of them ended up dead. (His doing admittedly, otherwise Haggar’s dark magic would have endangered the rest of them beyond hope of escape, a fact he unfortunately hadn’t been able to explain to them. He didn’t feel good about it.)

He spent months running on his own, crossing the lands with the only goal of getting as far away from his father as possible. 

This was now the third time in his life he’d been kidnapped, and honestly he was amazed the number was that low. 

The brigands were all dead now, by his own hand. He had no idea where he was, limping through the forest with a broken arm and large gashes in his side and leg. If he did not receive medical attention soon he would bleed out, though it was still a better option to keep his father guessing whether he was alive or dead verses a more visible and certain execution. 

Breathing heavily he pushed through an unusually trim hedge. Someone must live on the other side, someone wealthy enough and hopefully charitable enough they might be able to afford a doctor for a stranger. 

The last thing he saw before collapsing was a beautiful woman holding a staff in combat position. 

He was almost thankful to her for hitting him with it. It was nice to not feel pain for at least a little while.

~~~~~~

Allura found herself in a predicament. 

She had been only weeks old the day she was presented to the court as Princess of Altea, and heir to the throne of the prosperous and happy country, so the situation had been understandably out of her control. 

She had been blessed that day with countless gifts from her parents’ many friends and citizens alike. Among them had been an exchange between the King of Altea and the Emperor of Daibaazal. If Zarkon were to have a son, surely he and Allura should be betrothed. 

Then she’d received a last minute gift, as her parents had recounted to her time and time again. A humble fortune teller arrived, knelt before her parents, and gave this prediction

_ Princess Allura will save the life of the man she weds. _

The fortune teller vanished. That was it. No further explanation was given.

The single sentence caused an uneasy rift between Alfor and Zarkon. With the birth of Prince Lotor, Zarkon had again proposed to arrange the future marriage of their children. 

Alfor had sided with the words of the fortune teller. There was more of a chance for true love, he reasoned

Zarkon hadn’t taken it well, withdrawing back to his kingdom, never seen in Altea again.

Allura had spent much of her formative years in preparation for whatever form ‘saving a life’ would take. Military training, diplomacy, and an especially wide berth of medical knowledge were handed down to her. Here now, as she looked upon the man in the hospital bed, it seemed she had fulfilled her part of the prophecy. 

This was the predicament: this was the _second_ man she had saved from certain death. 

“Everything alright, Princess?” asked the first man.

Allura snapped to attention at the question. Formerly half asleep and upright in the chair, she turned to face Shiro, who still held the door open slightly and awaited permission to enter. 

She nodded. “I am fine. Coran says our guest should make a full recovery,” she said with a forced smile. 

“In that case, you should get some rest,” Shiro said. His tone held only concern as he gently placed an encouraging hand on her shoulder. “You’ve been here for hours. There’s nothing more you can do for him.”

Allura frowned, her focus once again on the face of the young man. He was clearly Galra, a fascinating twist as Zarkon cut off ties to Altea decades ago. The few reports of Daibazaal that reached Altea were not encouraging. Zarkon had turned to madness, and it was rumored that he neglected his country in his obsessive search for immortality. No one knew what had become of his son.

“I do not want to assume anything, but I worry his presence here is only the beginning of something dreadful,” she confided. 

“Or something good,” Shiro commented with a wry grin. “You saved his life. Maybe he can tell us what has been happening behind Daibazaal’s magic barrier.” 

His words didn’t surprise her; he was leader of her Paladins, after all. 

Allura turned back to him, feeling increasingly troubled. “I’m not sure hitting him with my staff was saving his life.”

“Except that rendering him unconscious allowed the doctors to find the shrapnel quicker. He would have died, Allura. You did save his life.”

“Shiro,” Allura said sternly, locking eyes with him before dissolving into uncertainty. “I rescued you already.”

Shiro nodded, a warm smile on his face. “You did. One prophecy doesn’t own you, Allura. No more than my past controls me. If the fortune teller was right, then it will happen how you want it to. Give him a chance.”

She pressed her lips together, suppressing a smile. “You’ve been spending too much time with Coran, and Father for that matter,” she lightly scolded. “Thank you, Shiro, for the reminder. I needed that.”

“My pleasure, Princess.”

A low moan alerted the two that they were no longer alone in their conversation. The Galra man’s eyes opened slowly and groggily. His irises were a brilliant blue, a shock to see among the typically black feature, but still ringed by yellow.

His confused gaze landed on Allura and Shiro, his mouth opening with a question, but she did not give him the chance to speak first. 

“Good morning. Are you feeling better?”

“Where am I?” he asked instead. His eyes scanned the room with increasing frenzy, like a cornered animal. 

“You are in Altea, within the Castle, specifically the hospital wing,” Allura explained evenly. She kept an amicable smile firmly in place. “You suffered severe blood loss from multiple wounds, in addition to a concussion from blunt force to the head,” she finished, flushed and embarrassed. “That was my fault, and I apologize for injuring you further.”

“The healers say you’ll be fine after a couple days of rest,” Shiro added from his standing position behind Allura. “I should thank you. That blow was meant for me. Bad luck coming in on our training session.” He spoke with sympathy, but there was definite humor in his tone.

The man did not seem to find it amusing, remaining understandably jittery, but at the information, he relaxed slightly. “I see,” he said. “You have my thanks. I would not have survived without your hospitality.”

Allura maintained her diplomatic smile in an attempt not to give away her flinch. He did not know who she was. He was not invoking the fortune teller’s words on purpose, so she could not hold that against him. But not introducing herself could no longer wait. 

“Aid all in need is the code of the Paladins of Voltron, and you certainly needed aid. I am Princess Allura. This is Shiro; he leads the Paladins under my direction.”

The young man stared at the two of them for a pregnant pause. Allura supposed it was normal. Despite her attempts at being a common sight around town, citizens would often have a starstruck reaction to her. She and Shiro would give him the time he needed to collect himself.

“This makes things a tad easier,” he eventually said. “I am Lotor, former prince of the Galra Empire. The pleasure is mine.” He smiled, simultaneously sad and amused. “You were the one who saved me after all, Princess.”

~~~~

Waking up in the care of the Altean princess was more of a boon than Lotor could have hoped for. Not only was he alive, but this was the last place his father would seek him out.

It was nice to have the company of someone who did not want him dead for the first time in months. 

It also tested his traditional monarchical knowledge. Princesses, especially those next in line to the throne, did not typically take time out of their day to bring meals to hospital patients. 

She sat at his bedside once giving him a bowl of green mush. Not the tastiest meal, but easy to swallow and full of nutrition. 

Lotor lay his reading material on his lap, a warm blanket between the tablet and his legs. “Princess, you are too kind bringing me meals like this. Surely there are others not as inundated with duties. I’m sure I could walk to the kitchen now if needed.”

“I’m afraid I have ulterior motives,” Allura admitted. Her expression flashed between sadness and confusion. “You are the first Galra we’ve seen in deca-pheobs. I was hoping you would be able to tell us what Zarkon is planning. Our people fear war.”

He could not help but sigh. “Shiro has already questioned me at length. I’m not sure if I can provide you with anything useful.”

“I know, I’ve already spoken with him,” she said. ”I realize he was distant, but perhaps you might have seen something in the Witch’s tower?”

“Nothing comes to mind,” he said quickly. His thoughts were still in recovery, and he could not recall anything that might help his rescuers. “If something does, I will be sure to tell you. I’m afraid I have nowhere else to go.”

“We are… glad to have you here,” Allura said diplomatically. 

Lotor could tell it was forced, and he could not help becoming suspicious. He supposed he should not be surprised. Exiled he may be, but he was still a prince, a title synonymous with bargaining chip. 

“Princess, please, I would prefer not to dawdle, “ he implored of her. “Do you plan on ransoming me to my Father?”

Lotor was surprised, and heartened, by the gasp of surprise from the Princess. “No! Nothing of the sort! Would that not mean death for you?”

“Most certainly,” he confirmed, concerned that he said the wrong thing to his host, one who seemed to wish to keep him alive. “I apologize for bringing it up. You seemed conflicted, and I feared the worst.”

“No, oh no,” she assured him. “It isn’t even being considered. You are welcome to stay here for as long as you like, even after you recover.” 

“I think I would like to stay, if it doesn’t trouble you,” he said, allowing himself a soft smile. To have royal protection was beyond what he could have hoped for. “You have been overly kind to the son of your enemy.”

Allura faltered in her expression slightly, the hint of conflict returning to her features. “That was not always the case. I’ve been told our fathers used to be friends. So much so that you and I may have been betrothed if fate had not other plans.”

This was news, and Lotor could not hide his surprise. His brows furrowed, trying to make sense between the man who sired him and the father Allura spoke of. “I suppose it was his first attempt to be rid of me,” he guessed. He closed his eyes, resigned to that explanation. “King Alfor had none of it?”

“That’s… a bit more complicated,” Allura admitted. “The only reason we are not is because a fortune teller told my parents I would save my future husband’s life.”

“...but you saved my life,” Lotor stated slowly and carefully, making sure he understood the meaning behind Allura’s words.

“Yes,” Allura said. “I’m afraid this whole situation is a bit messy. You see, I also saved Shiro from one of Zarkon’s laboratories.”

“That does leave things rather… vague,” he offered, his own brow wrinkling at the puzzle.

Allura perked up and clasped her hands together excitedly. “So you understand then? Excellent. We will begin tomorrow!”

Lotor blinked. The metaphorical gears in his brain ground to a halt as he strained to connect their conversation to her gleeful attitude. “Begin… what?”

“The courting, of course,” she said as if it was obvious. “We know practically nothing about one another, and I’d prefer not to leave any stone unturned.”

Lotor’s mouth went dry, an unfortunate consequence of leaving his jaw hanging open. He berated himself. Exiled he might have been, but he had been raised with manners. 

“Isn’t this a bit much?” he asked.

“Well, it isn’t as if we’re serious. We did just meet,” she told him matter of factly, “and there is no timetable. If we don’t feel like a relationship would work, then that’s all there is to it.”

“I’m still not sure this is entirely a good idea.”

“You don’t exactly have anywhere to go, and you did say you’d like to stay,” she countered.

As he looked into her bright eyes and wide, eagar smile, Lotor could not help but consent that she was right. Like it or not, he was at Altea’s mercy. She had not been the worst of company during his bedrest.

This just hadn’t been at all what he had expected, but he would take humoring the Princess over bleeding out alone in the woods.

~~~~

“Are you sure you’re alright? Do you need the walking stick?”

“I’m fine. We haven’t been walking for very long.”

Silence.

“I do not want your leg to give out just because I bullied you to go out to lunch with me.”

Lotor stopped in his tracks and nearly fell backwards to avoid running into Allura, who had inserted herself without preamble in his path. She caught his hands in her own to pull him upright and exclaimed, “Sorry!”

He did not want her to feel badly, as he owed her his life. He held her hands for a moment longer than necessary and reinforced the gesture with a calculated but genuine smile. “You only needed to ask. I am grateful to be out of a bed and thankful for your company regardless.”

Allura blushed and turned away. “Yes, well, a hospital really isn’t the best of places to get to know someone.” She brightened. “The place we are going is perfect.”

Lotor was grateful the place was not one of the more upscale establishments around the city. He wasn’t sure he would have been able to fit in with his lack of social etiquette. As he sat down at the communal table, he did become increasingly hyper aware that he and Allura were the only patrons. 

“I would have expected this place to be busier at this time,” he commented. His eyes wandered across to the bar area, and up to the multitude of weapons and armor that decorated the walls. A bulletin of bounties stretched on the far wall. Stairs led to a loft overlooking the dining room, additional seating available there. His instincts told him he shouldn’t be here, that he was too much in the open.

“I asked the Paladins to close today so we could have space to talk. Should we end up discussing Zarkon, I’d rather it not be overheard by public ears just yet,” Allura explained. “The citizens are quite used to us closing for mission-related business.”

“The Paladins? Aren’t they your bodyguards?”

“Not exactly,” Allura said. “They act as such when needed, but they mainly act as an elite unit of the Altean Guard. Their work is generally more proactive rather than defensive. We work together to run this tavern. A wealth of information comes through from travelers and we act on it when possible.”

Lotor relaxed slightly, but only just. The Paladins of Voltron were a fighting force to be reckoned with. He had heard tales of their exploits while traveling, and while he had initially only raised his eyebrow that he had met their captain and benefactor, it now completely unnerved him to know he was in their domain - their  _ base _ .

Allura gave him a reassuring smile. “I promise no harm will come to you. You have my word as their leader.”

Not a moment later, an arrow struck dead center of the table. 

Before either royal could rise from their seats in shock, a man in red clothing jumped onto the table and deflected yet another oncoming arrow with his knife. Without acknowledging either of them he sprung forward, grabbing a low hanging light fixture with one arm and using it to propel himself across the room.

“Dangit, Keith, stop showing off!” yelled a male voice from above. A man wearing predominantly blue stood in the loft, bow and arrow at the ready for another shot as the man in red climbed towards him.

“You talk too much, Lance,” Keith said with a grin. He shoved his blade into the floor next to Lance, who lowered his bow and threw Keith an exasperated look.

“I’m trying to give them a show,” he said dramatically. He flung an arm out to gesture to Lotor and Allura. “You know, show off the marksman skills of Voltron. You weren’t supposed to show up until later,” he accused.

A single eye of Allura’s twitched. “Lance, Keith, I appreciate the thought, but Lotor is not that comfortable here yet.” She turned to him, an apologetic smile. “Lotor, this is Lance and Keith, both are Paladins - whom I _thought_ were out with Shiro,” she finished with a pointed glare.

Lance opened his mouth, but Keith interrupted, “Pidge went instead.”

Lance glared, although it wasn’t entirely in animosity. “We thought that since we had the afternoon free, we’d help you figure this guy out,” Lance said confidently. Lotor couldn’t help but catch the hint of smugness that underlined it. He braced himself for the snide comment to follow, far too used to other persons of Lance’s character.

Instead, Lance deflated comically. “This guy was traveling and was laid up for a few days? How in the Four Realms is he prettier than me?” 

Lotor looked to the other occupants of the room. Allura and Keith were unphased and wholly unimpressed. 

“Seriously, Lance?” Keith droned.

“What? It's not fair if I spend hours of my day to look perfect, but he’s able to do it with no effort.”

Allura closed her eyes, twitching slightly, then inhaled and exhaled slowly. “As long as the two of you are here, would you do me a favor and bring out the food from the back? I did tell you we were here for lunch.”

“The leftovers from yesterday?” Keith said. “I think there’s still some sti - “

“No. Nonononono,” a new voice interrupted. “We are not serving a guest leftovers.”

A man in yellow stood behind the bar and opened the side door that led out to the rest of the room. Lotor made a mental note not to make this one angry. His size and growing scowl made him wary, and. he could not help stiffening as the man approached him. 

“Hunk, your cooking is delicious. I was looking forward to it,” Allura said, sounding disappointed. 

“I’ll make something fresh, he deserves that much after eating food goo for three days,” Hunk said to Allura before scrutinizing Lotor. “How does mashed potatoes sound?”

“Whatever you’d like,” Lotor said cautiously. “I would be happy to try it.”

The silence was deafening. 

“You’ve never had mashed potatoes,” Lance stated, voice filled with awe and disbelief. Keith mirrored the look, though his expression softened to concern. 

“No,” Lotor answered with a frown. “Cooking was not on the Witch’s list of priorities. The trail rations provided all the necessary nourishment, so there was never a need to eat anything else.” 

Hunk’s mouth hung open in astonishment. “This can’t stand.” He turned to Allura. “Can you hold off eating for another ten minutes? I can get something whipped up by then.”

Lotor flushed, unused to the positive attention. ”You needn’t concern yourself with me. As long as the food is filling, it is appreciated.”

“Allura,” Hunk said with a hint of desperation. He pointed to Lotor. “This man has probably never had a decent and tasteful meal in his life. Ten minutes.”

Allura sighed, but smiled. “Hunk, it would be a pleasure if you could cook something for us.”

Hunk brightened and wrapped Keith and Lance in each of his arms. “I’ll need your help, guys.” 

The boys protested weakly, but it did not take long before all three disappeared into the kitchen.

“Now you’ve met four of the Paladins,” Allura said, turning to Lotor with not quite an embarrassed smile. “I’m glad you have the opportunity to meet them here instead of on a mission. I could not ask for a better group to work with.”

“They are enthusiastic,” Lotor conceded. The two of them sat back down at the table. “I suppose we have more time than anticipated.”

“All for the better,” Allura assured him. She frowned. “You aren’t uncomfortable, are you? I am the first to admit this is a bit insane. All of this because of some silly fortune from before I could even crawl.”

Lotor considered his next words carefully. He didn’t want to anger her in any way. “I do not like the idea of pursuing something Zarkon sought,” he said thoughtfully, managing a warm smile. “Although I have enjoyed your company quite a bit these last few days.”

“Then let’s spend this time as friends. Nothing more,” she said with a smile of her own. “I can at least pretend this prophecy does not exist for today.” Holding a fist up to her mouth, she cleared her throat. “Shiro told me the tower you lived in is not that far from the border of Altea and Daibazaal.”

“Visitors were few and far between,” Lotor confirmed. He laced his fingers together, resting his arms on the table. “I would be most concerned about the Witch’s magic. Her methods of extracting quintessence will be devastating once it can be harnessed en masse.”

“As you’ve said,” Allura acknowledged. “Father told me this morning that he sent out scouts to the area. We are hopeful they will come back with information pertinent to what you've already told us.”

Lotor paled. “For their sakes I hope they made their peace. She will not let them live. We can only pray their deaths will be swift. I would not recommend sending anyone to retrieve the bodies.”

Allura’s eyes went wide. “Perhaps if we leave now, we can save them.”

Lotor shook his head. “I’ve studied the maps my whole life. You will not make it. I do not want to lose you.” A fool, he realized. Altea could not afford to lose her. He had made it unintentionally personal.

They delved into an awkward silence as Allura blushed, her mouth fluttering between agape and a toothy smile. 

Loud voices and the clinking of dishes from the kitchen was a thankful reprieve. Lance appeared first carrying a dish towel and a candle, and Keith followed holding a tray with two bowls on it.

“Don’t drop it, Keith.”

“I’m not going to drop it. Just keep walking so I don’t run into you.”

Lance smiled brightly as he strode up to the table. With a snap, he straightened the towel and laid it across the table, placing a candle on top of it. At the same time, Keith set the bowls in front of both Lotor and Allura. Rigid, Lance closed his eyes and snapped his fingers. “The soup, Keith.”

“They already have it,” Keith replied dryly.

Lance’s eyes flew open and he squawked at the sight. He glared at Keith. “We agreed you were going to wait until I set the mood.”

“Yeah, and I did. The soup on top of the towel.”

“It's a tablecloth! Do you not have any romantic sense?”

Keith slouched, not impressed. “Better they have it warm. You heard Hunk.”

“Fine,” Lance groaned, crossing his arms in annoyance. “At least light the candle, please.”

Keith snapped his fingers over the candle and it lit with a noticeably more reddish flame. “I’m going back to the kitchen.”

Lance glared at him as he left. He cleared his throat as he turned. “My apologies. The soup is onion, with the chef’s special broth.” He bowed. “Please enjoy.” 

Once he left, Lotor looked from his own soup to Allura, who was already eating. “Had Keith not created the flame, I would have wondered if they truly are the fabled Paladins of Voltron.”

“I wouldn’t have them any other way,” Allura said, then frowned thoughtfully “Although when I first met them, I was a bit concerned. Rest assured when you see them in action you will understand.”

“Do you go to battle with them often?”

“When I’m able,” Allura confirmed. “We are better as a group rather than individually. It helps keep Pidge’s mission board relatively clean when we can split into groups of two or three.” She gestured to the far wall, where Lotor had noticed various bounty posters and help wanted signs. “I can show you later if you’d like. Try the soup; it's best warm.”

Lotor did, bringing a spoonful of soup into his mouth and testing it with his tongue. He had known objectively that there was more to food than the gooey rations he’d had in the castle hospital and what he’d lived on in the tower. This was his first experience. He’d not had the luxury of stopping in taverns for a meal while traveling with his old friends.

Despite the warmth of the soup, his hands and heart felt very cold at their memory. It was difficult to enjoy. He smiled anyway. “It is very good. Worth the wait.”

Allura’s bemused look quickly turned into concern. Lotor berated himself for whatever part of his expression had given his sour reminiscence away. He was grateful she did not press the issue. 

“What kinds of things do you like to do for fun?” she asked instead. 

He considered the question for a few moments. “I’m not sure if it was purely ‘fun’, but I greatly enjoyed reading historical texts. I like knowing about my ancestors.”

Allura perked up. “Like Oriande and the origin of Altea?” Nearly as soon as she spoke she flushed. “I’m sorry, I mean, if there was a Galra equivalent of that story.”

Lotor could not hold back a genuine smile. “Exactly the type, Princess. I am part Altean myself. I read all the books I was able on both cultures.”

He had anticipated her astonished face, and did his very best to hold back laughter as the Princess of Altea nearly spit out her soup. “You are? Then that would mean - that means your mother is Honerva.”

“I never knew her personally,” Lotor said sadly. “I am told she was a great lady. The volumes of her research kept me occupied as I grew.” He smirked as he reminisced about his younger self, fashioning himself a brilliant scientist in his own right. 

Allura smiled, leaning her head up in memory. “Even in Altea she was at the forefront of scientific advancement.”

Lotor frowned and held eyes only for his soup, stirring his spoon in the bowl aimlessly. “I would have very much liked to have known her.”

“There is much about Honerva in the Castle library,” Allura said, a sympathetic smile on her face. “We can go there after lunch and I can show you some of Coran’s favorite biographies.”

His heart melted at the gesture, and he was very pleased at the amount of news he had good reason to smile over. He returned the soft smile easily. “I would very much like that. Thank you, Princess.”

The door to the outside of the building swung open without warning, slamming against the wall before teetering back and forth. A young woman in green bent over breathless in the threshold. 

“Allura,” she wheezed. “We have a problem.”

The princess stood up and rushed to her side quickly. “Pidge, are you alright? Breathe first, please.”

Lotor followed, a sinking feeling in his stomach as Pidge inhaled and exhaled. 

Once she had caught her breath, her eyes landed on Lotor. His breath hitched at the sympathy he saw in them. 

“A Galra courier just arrived at the Castle,” she explained worriedly. “Zarkon knows Lotor is here and is demanding his return to Daibazaal.” 

~~~~

The courier left the throne room. They could now deliberate without a scrutinizing eye. Beside the king, his good friend and trusted adviser Coran had already been a careful ear. Shiro also joined them, remaining quiet as Alfor and his daughter traded words.

“This is ridiculous. Father we cannot,” she stressed. “Zarkon will kill him. There is nothing to debate.”

“We have little choice, Allura. There is not time to assemble the army away from the borders,” Alfor said with a regretful frown. “I’m so sorry, son. We can fake your escape from the Castle, at the very least.”

Lotor closed his eyes, a pained sigh as he resigned himself to his fate at his father’s hands. “I understand, Your Majesty,” he said sincerely. “I thank you for the time you have been able to afford me.” 

It seemed third time was not the charm. He would be carried off in chains for the fourth time in his life.

Beside him, Allura stiffened. Her back straightened while bright blue eyes shone with determination. “We do have reason for Lotor to stay - a diplomatic one,” she said clearly. Lotor blinked in surprise as she took his hand in hers, gaze never leaving her father. “He is my fiancé.”

“What?” Alfor asked neutrally, more in a state of shock than surprise. 

“What?!” Coran was perfectly content to showcase his surprise in the most overt manner possible. 

Shiro blinked, then shrugged, as if he’d expected this. An unmistakably proud grin formed across his face.

“Princess, what are you doing?” Lotor demanded. His mind and heart whirled with emotions. The signing of his death warrant to apparent engagement - it was almost too much to process. 

Allura merely smiled,a mischievous glint sparking in her eyes. Her face looked more at peace than at any other time she had discussed her martial destiny. “I’m saving your life,” she said simply. “You said you wanted to stay, didn’t you?”

His eyes widened. “I did not intend it as a proposal,” he said, still in a state of shock. 

“It would give us grounds to give you permanent sanctuary,” Alfor added slowly. “Ironic we end up with the very circumstance that tore us apart. Certainly not how I imagined the fortune teller’s prophecy to come true.”

“I’ve known you for four days.” It wasn’t a protest, just a statement, but his face held an incredulous frown. 

“You should hear how she adopted all of her Paladins,” Shiro interjected, an ornery grin on his face. “We talked for five minutes while I lay in a hospital bed, and she appointed me head of them.”

Before Lotor could say a thing, Allura rested her hand on his arm, turning him to face her instead of Shiro. “This will give us time,” she advised softly. “We could remain engaged for the rest of our lives if we wanted, and stay friends. If love eventually becomes a part of it, then so be it.” She grinned. “Also you saw how angry Hunk was that we couldn’t finish lunch. I can’t let you go without trying all of his recipes.”

Lotor paused heavily before he sighed and took her other hand with his own. For the first time since the messenger arrived, he genuinely smiled. “It would be my pleasure to court you, Princess. If you’ll have me.”

Allura smiled brightly. “It would,” she confirmed. 

“Well,” Shiro said with a tired sigh, “looks like I’ll have to add another chair to the Voltron table.”

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on [Tumblr](https://rueitae.tumblr.com/)


End file.
